Weight of the World
by R.M1
Summary: Things turned out quite differently for Lina in Next and she ends up having to serve a Dark Lord to save her friends.


**Weight of the World  
I: Vernal Equinox **  
_Written by the Wanna-be novelist Rei Maria_

**Disclaimer:** Pff. In my dreams in this stuff is mine.  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Spoilers:** Up through _Next_ I guess.  
**Notes:** This is AU after episode 38 I think. Basically takes place in Seryun/Kazel and Mazenda arc. Lina still has her powers sealed, except this time, she had to make a different choice to save her friends. Or something. To try somethig different, I used first person from Lina's point of view. I just like her ^^;;; That and I've had this idea in my head since September 2000 or so. I'm just now figuring out where it's gonna go too. Sad. 

Have you heard, have you heard?  
About this girl who was ripped up by her roots.  
Have you heard, what she learned?  
Like humility-you win when you lose.  
-Ace of Base   
  
And if you can't forgive me for just being human  
Then I will try harder to keep my words pure.  
-Luscious Jackson  


    This is not a story where the heroine sings the praises and notes of a heart swollen with love, where she proudly proclaims at the end that love can conquer all and anything. Love kills. I've seen it first hand; I've seen it destroy cities and lives. 

    I used to not have any stance to take on love. Love was just *there*. You saw it everyday; couples embracing, plays of unrequited love and dark romances between vampires and humans. I never had a dark romance, but I did end up sleeping with a few demons. I didn't really do that willingly, you see. I did it to save the world and my heart's desire. 

    I'm currently thanking God I only have to stick around in Seryun for a few days, because visiting Princess-er-Queen Amelia is like visiting relatives when they're all married and you're stuck being the old bag. Amelia's not technically married, but she's at lest engaged. And to Zel, ha ha ha. I find it really ironic they would get together, but I guess it proves that old expression 'opposites attract' is actually true. 

    It's amazing that after saving the world more times than anyone, I've almost been forgotten as a person. I'm a myth, a legend, a goddess, a messiah, but I am never just plain Lina Inverse, the daughter of a poor grape farmer in Zelphilia. I'm never just a mere human being in fairy tales, which I suppose I should feel complimented by but the thing I always thought was great about me was the fact that I was 100% home-grown human. I wasn't a chosen one or anything, I was just talented, and *that's* why I saved the world. Twice. Make that three times, on second thought. 

    I'm lucky and talented and that's why I can save the world. I just wish everyone would know what I gave up and what I saw. I...I dove into...but that didn't come first. 

    First I sold my soul. 

[*] 

_     

She comes to him bedraggled, icy rainwater and hot sweat on her skin. Her hands are frozen inside white glove that stick to her hands. Her eyes, he notes, are cold, hatred filled ones. He can understand that; what she came here to be is revolting to her, and thrilling for him. Finally, someone who can handle themselves! Someone who didn't need or want to dote on his every word and follow his every action! She has spirit when she arrives, and he knows that she will still have that resistance when she departs.

    He smiles. He likes that. 
_

[*] 

    I studied him, not quite sure what to make of the infamous Demon Dragon King. Garv had the air of a knight, a prince who wandered about saving damsels in distress, but studying him closer she realized that there was nothing at all noble about him. The look in his eyes reflected a sort of disturbing cunning, a hot temper and the obvious want for power. I retained her gaze, my heart pounding against the frame of my rib cage. I knew how I must have looked, disgusting and dirty, and I felt tired even thinking about the mess I'd gotten into. I'd sold myself. I'd sold myself to win a battle that couldn't be won. Kanzel and Mazenda offered me a choice; join up or watch your friends die. 

    I chose the second. I swore herself to Garv, thinking I could get out of it. I, the great Lina Inverse, could get out of anything. My mind had been frantically racing since then, a thousand and one frantic little plans darting across my tired mind. I wanted to sleep so badly my eyelids kept dropping shut. It took more energy than I had to pry them open again. 

    Dim candlelight played on Garv's face and shadows shifted and darted like living things by the oaken chair he was lounged in. The fact that I thought the shadows might actually be living creatures made me sort of sick and scared . Shadows, I'd been taught, were illusions. There were no such things as shadows stalked you in your sleep or vampires that ate your soul. They were merely fairy tales, as make believe as the tales of gallant knights on white horses. Though in this place, I felt the breath on legends in the air. The witching hour didn't end in this place. 

    Shadows were slithering on the gray stone floor and I'd just sold my life. These seemed to be my final moments. I met Garv's gaze again, staring at him almost blankly. Every time he shifted from one side of the chair to the other, my eyes frantically moved to the massive sword at his side. I expected that silver metal to be clashed against my skull at any second; I expected to either have to fight him or die. But there he sat, memorizing every inch of me, not making a move for the sword. 

    I can't really say whether I was relieved or more frightened by this. 

    Garv made the first move. He leaned forward and rested his fist on his other hand. "So you're Lina Inverse eh? I expected something a little more impressive." 

    "Doesn't everybody?" I said. I tried to make my voice has loud as possible. I felt like I was almost trying to drown out the sound of my heart beating in the darkness. 

    "I sure hope the other things I've heard about ya aren't as disappointing?" 

    I crossed my arms, turning my head to the side and sniffed. Be confident. Be proud. Be bitchy and you'll live through this. My mottoes weren't helping me here. "Yeah right-you of all people should know what I can do." 

    "Every spell in the book right?" 

    "Ha. That's not even half of it!" Intimidation, I knew, was not going to convince Garv to let her go. It was like making a cat drop a mouse that it was about to devour; he had me trapped and I knew damn well I'd need a miracle to kill him right now. Can mazoku have heart attacks? was the first question that popped into my brain. If he died of natural cases I could slip out and...You can see have ridiculous my plans were becoming after not having slept for forty-eight hours. "You haven't even seen the Giga Slave." That spell's my ace. If anything could get me out of this, I thought, it would be that spell. 

    "According to Mazenda, you can't do shit right now," Garv replied smugly as he reclined into the back of the oak chair once more. My grin faded a little and was replaced by a sour look. It probably looked like I'd just bitten into a rotten apple. The ace was in my pocket, I just couldn't put it on the table. Garv reached into the recesses of his coat and produced a cigarette, which he lit with his fingertips. He took a drag, a wisp of gray smoke circle bursting on my face. I coughed and rubbed my eyes with one hand, a sharp sting shooting through them. The smoke tasted foul; rank and old like the air of a tomb. I felt nauseous. "She dida damn good job of getting rid of your powers for a while I see." 

    I growled, my temper nearly snapping even in the haze I was wandering in. My hand formed into a fist and I sputtered out a few four-letter words. Garv laughed, a deep sound much like the growl of a wild animal. A bear maybe. "You've got spirit." The cigarette was nearly spent down, and he tapped it on the arms of the chair. LI watched a few ashes flutter onto the floor. They resembled dead butterflies in the candlelight. "I like that," he said finally, a rather disturbing, dark look filling his crimson eyes. 

    I moved backwards and my leather boots squeaked on the floor. "Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you. Yer far too valuable to kill." He smiled, his lips forming into an almost cheery grin, which I have to say found even more alarming than the smirk he'd worn before. Garv stubbed the cigarette out, the end of it buried into the wood where he twisted it, killing the last flicker of fire. "I guess I should have someone show you to your room," he said, sighing. "Val where the hell are you?." 

    I blinked rapidly as…as a shadow near Garv's feet began to twist and bind itself into a dark form, which she could barely make out in the dim candlelight. A young man was standing beside Garv now, his pale amber eyes aglow with hatred for people and ideas long dead. Two deep angry gashes were slashed onto either of his cheeks. His aqua hair stuck straight up in the air, forming around a horn that resembled one of a mythical beast. 

    For a moment I thought it was a unicorn's horn, a trophy of sorts, but the more she studied the thing erupting from his head, the more I realized it was *part* of his head. He was wearing what looked like nightclothes; a large white shirt that was only halfway tucked into tan slacks. The young man glanced at the Dark Lord. "What?" He was obviously mazoku but there was something defiantly off about him. He looked like the sort of person you didn't want to be alone in a dark room with. His eyes shifted towards me, pupils moving up and down once or twice. They almost seemed to be judging me. 

    "I want you to show Lina to her room." 

    "Lina? Who the hell-" 

    "Lina Inverse is our new recruit Val," Garv said, glaring at him sternly. "There's an empty room below mine in the West Wing that she can use." 

    I pointed a finger at Val. "Who's he?" 

"Oh? This is Valgarv." 

"Is it a coincidence the word 'Garv' is in that name?" 

"We're partners," Val said with a certain amount of pride. I looked puzzled, not completely understanding the term. 

"'Partners'?" I asked, raising an eyebrow in question. Garv shrugged and pushed Valgarv towards me. There were about five definitions of that term, but if they weren't gonna tell me what it meant I didn't really feel like processing them at the moment. I bit down on my lip to stifle a yawn. 

    "Come on," Valgarv said, sauntering past me and not bothering to hide a snarl. I winced and jogged up to him. 

[*]

    The castle was disturbingly dark, smelling of old cloth and the rusted armor that line the corridor. Every few minutes I would glance at the metal suits, focusing my attention on the dark silted eyes, expecting to see bulbs of crimson peering out from the triangular gaps. This castle, with its breath of myths and scent of ages, seemed to have eyes and ears. I wondered if Garv was watching from some crystal ball or magic mirror, like the evil wizards out of the fairy tales my sister had gushed between shifts at her part time job. My mind drifted towards Luna, imagining her babbling about the Nutcracker and the Mouse King while a younger version of myself munched on a dark autumn apple. The thoughts was comforting enough to calm my twitching heart and frantic breaths for a few minutes. 

    Valgarv, who up until that point had remained silent, turned his head to face me. "You'll get used to it," he said before facing his head forwards once more. I blinked in question, and momentarily didn't understand the exact meaning of the statement. It was far too general for my liking. Get used to what? The darkness of this maze or something else? 

    "What'd you mean?" I asked. Valgarv lifted the candle up a bit more above his head, his shadow lengthening greatly while mine seemed to shrink in comparison. 

    "You'll get used ta being here," he replied. The answer was so simple, yet so complex that my thoughts wandered to what it actually meant. This, among other things, made it easier to forget the walls filled with eyes and voices. This place, as much as I hate to admit it, frightened me and I almost dreaded to be out of Valgarv's quiet company. What things would crept out when I wasn't with one of Garv's henchmen? 

    The odd mazoku seemed to say very little verbally, but his frozen amber eyes depicted his jealously perfectly. I almost felt like telling him that I wasn't about to uproot his position of what seemed to Garv's number one henchman. I would silently add that I wouldn't been there for much longer, anyway. 

    "You know," I started. 

    "What?!" Valgarv snapped, whirling around to glare hatefully at me. I swallowed. 

    "Um, nothing." I said quickly, laughing nervously. The angry aura around the Dark Lord's self-proclaimed partner told her now was not the time for a friendly chat. Maybe some other time, I thought. 

    When we reached the far end of the hallway, Valgarv swung left and lead to me a massive wooden door, which a creature with long black wings had been carved. 

    "Here's the room," he said, rotating to face the me. His hand sunk into the pocket of his slacks and he produced a long bronze key in the shape of a twisted dragon. He placed it roughly in the palm of my hand. "Someone'll call you tomorrow. Garv-sama has somethin' planned for you ta do, I suppose," he said gruffly. my eyes fell on the key. It was so odd looking. I only looked up when I heard Valgarv's footsteps rounding the corner before dying off into the distance. 

    Somewhere below me a shout was a heard and a door was slammed against the stone frame of the castle. Chewing thoughtfully on my lower lip, I fumbled with the key for an instant and inserted the metal into the lock where it clicked soundly into place. I twisted it, and the door creaked out a few inches, and I pushed it full open, squinting in the darkness By the light of the torches in the hallway I could make out a mattress tossed carelessly beside a barred window and a full length mirror hanging over a dresser where a wash a basin was placed. 

    Not very classy, if you ask me. But it was a room. A bed. Temporary safety from the world. 

    It suddenly occurred to me that I had no other clothes and I grimaced. I carefully undid the clasp of my cape and let it drop to the floor in a puddle of dark velvet and slipped off my boots. Next came the heavy shoulder guards, which I placed gently on for fear of awakening whatever demons slept in this fortress. Carefully plotting the space between me and the mattress, I kicked the door closed and dove into the pool of sheets and wool. I thrust my head under the safety of their warmth. 

    I stayed there for a few moments. I must have looked like a cowering child afraid of closet monsters and boogie men. My rapid breaths began to die into a slow paced harsh mutter. When I hadn't heard any noises for a few minutes, I slowly removed the covers from over my head. There was indeed nothing to worry about in the room once my eyes adjusted to the dark, just the mirror and the stand, which failed to look ominous. 

    The room was vaguely like something you could pay three copper for in a cheap inn, not the haunting lair of some slimy thing which ate human beings. Laughing in an almost embarrassed relief, I shifted myself so that I faced the wall. For tonight at least, escape was out of the question. I was far too exhausted to even complete any remotely coherent thoughts, and soon drifted off into a dream world. In that fantasy land I rose the next morning to find Gourry, Zelgadis and Amelia waiting for me. 

    That wouldn't happen for a long, long time. 

[*]

    The parade ground of Garv's castle was a stupid thing to have. It was like throwing a silk rug on in cardboard box in an attempt to turn into a palace. I hadn't noticed how positively dilapidated the castle was the previous night, since it had been so dark. Actually, it was pretty much falling down. I wasn't in a good mood to begin with, after being woken up at the crack of dawn by a mazoku with an obvious hangover yelling for me to come down the parade grounds and spending over an hour trying to *find* the parade grounds. Garv's castle needed little light up maps with signs saying, "You are here" with an arrow pointing to your position. It would doubtfully get any of those, but I could dream. 

    In the meanwhile, I dreaded trying to find my way back to the dingy closet that was my bedroom. I'd looked around carefully for any possible holes in the walls I could split into but I couldn't find one hallway that didn't have one guard lying around. All of them glared at me and watched my every move, meaning I couldn't even attempt much exploring. I was irked before eight in the morning. 

    The parade ground was a large stretch of land sitting the middle of the castle. When I arrived, the place was littering with soldiers standing in crocked lines leaning on their spears and gossiping. At the time I think there was anything to gossip about, or maybe that mazoku weren't as petty as humans when it came to rumors, but within the first five minutes of standing at the end of one of the disorderly lines I realized if anything they were worse. 

    "Did you hear about the Inverse girl?" one mazoku whose human form was a lanky brown haired young man, whispered loudly to the blond beside him. 

    "Isn't she one of us now?" a tall mazoku asked. Lanky nodded. I thought of telling them I wasn't one of them, or even just pointing the girl they were chatting about was directly in back of them. I sighed and stayed quiet. I had no interest in telling them anything, anyway. 

    "Why'd she join *Garv*?" the blond asked. "If she's a human, doesn't she hate mazoku?" 

    "She joined up to save her friends or lover or something," Lanky replied. He seemed to the source of information in this line. "Oh cripes here comes Garv..." he muttered, straightening up slightly. The others followed suite and a trumpet cut through any further conversations that were being kept up in the ranks. Garv had wandered up the front, still dressed in his massive orange trench coat with that sword roughly as long as me hanging at his side. He gave the troops a sloppy salute that they returned equally unenthusiastically. 

    Valgarv, I noted, was not in any of the long, squiggly lines. I got a glimpse of him standing off to Valgarv's right attempting to straighten his frazzled hair and turquoise vest. At seeing this, Lanky, Blond and Tall Guy snickered. I didn't get the joke, but the rest of the mazoku seemed to. There were scattered giggles around me for a few seconds before they died down. 

    "Whatever..." I grumbled, stepping out of line. I had a mission that morning. "HEY!" I hollered, jumping up in the air. I waved my arms around and continued to bounce up and down. Every single creature on the parade grounds turned to stare at me, their eyes wide. Lanky, Blond and Tall Guy moved away from me for fear they would be associated with me. "Excuse me!" 

    "What?!!" Garv barked. I stopped jumping, my feet now a bit sore from being pounded on the cobblestone. 

    "I was wondering when we eat," I said. The ranks all moved a few inches away from me. I glared at them before turning my attention back to Garv. "I mean, I haven't eaten in thirty six hours or so-" 

    "Who the hell are you?!!" Some yelled. 

    "Eat? Just go out a terrorize a few humans you moron!" Lanky called. I suddenly wished for at least the fifth time that day I had my powers back. That jerk deserved to be Dragu Slaved, pronto. I flicked him off and he sputtered something. 

    "So, when can I eat?" 

[*]

    Pancakes are very good things. They are God's gift to me and the rest of humanity, and I have to say that if I had to choose any in the world I liked best it would have to be pancakes. I could live on pancakes. Well that and maybe strawberry ice cream and roast pork, but other than that I could live solely on pancakes. The pathetic little inn on the outskirts of Garv's lands the Dark Lord had taken us to eat breakfast at didn't really serve much, but I admit they made really good pancakes completely covered in whipped cream and maple syrup, although I have no idea how they managed to get the syrup to the middle of Nowhere. Another miracle of trading, I suppose. 

    Valgarv gawked at me, his mouth hanging open every so slightly. "How the hell are we ever gonna pay for the bill here?" he said, eyes bulged to the size of the plate I was currently digging into. Of course, he was overreacting. I don't eat *that* much. The restaurant must have just been expensive, and I guess it had a right to be, since it was the only place for about fifty miles that served anything but the infamous tree-squirrel-on-a-stick and glass of water. I hadn't actually bothered to glance at the prices of our meal, my thoughts jumping from possible escape plans to what the heck Kidstikuen Surprise was. 

    Garv shrugged causally, leaning back in a small wooden chair that barely looked like it could support him and producing a cigarette from inside the pockets of his trench coat. That morning I had discovered that Garv had one of the habits I just couldn't stand; he smoked. He smoked constantly as a sort of nervous twitch that kept a constant stream of adrenaline flowing in his veins. I had noticed that if he didn't have a cigarette every couple of hours he'd get sort of anxious and sultry, further proving that new medical theory that nicotine is addictive. Val also smoked, but defiantly not as much as Garv. The younger mazoku obviously smoked just for the sake of keeping up appearances, but Garv did it to stay sane. 

    _I can see why. All he has is those dumb mazoku soldiers he probably made and Val._ My thoughts shifted from food to the aqua haired mazoku. He was overly clingy and bitchy. He seemed to be at his master's side at every moment, and I assumed that was the reason the other mazoku had broke laughter when he had come to the front. Valgarv was Garv's pet, his companion. In a sudden gust of inspiration, I realized what the term 'partners' really meant. Complete inseparable, darkly like the best friends humans have. But with mazoku, everything had to be in their interest. The word 'friend' seemed to more of a curse than a blessing in the mazoku universe, or at least in the little bubble Garv had created. 

    Valgarv arched an eyebrow at me. "What the hell are you looking at?" I shoved another pancake into my mouth, a line of syrup dribbling down my chin. I reached for a napkin and whipped the stickiness off my skin. 

    "Nothing," I replied. Valgarv mumbled something I assumed was not at all flattering. He's so bitchy. I thought. 

    _Yeah, he is. _

    I swiveled my head around to glance at Garv, who winked. 

    You have no idea how creepy it is to have someone just read your thoughts. 

[*]

    The weather in the terrain around Garv's castle was horrible. It was either temperatures rivaling desert climate or icy cold and beaten by winds from the arctic. Seeing as I was the only human in the whole fortress, I was the only one who was bothered by the terrible weather. Only a few weeks into my stay as Garv's prisoner, I had experienced pouring rain every night. The world and the Gods seemed to hate me, and thus the constant, loud rain pounding against my windows became in my view, a punishment. I would lay awake for hours, watching rain streak in curtains down the windows to form pools at the base of the sill. I would hold my face in my hands, absently watching the mazoku darting below me. Sighing, I flopped down onto my bed-oh, excuse me, I mean mattress-so that I faced the wall, where bits of rainwater crept in through the spaces between the stones. 

    "Damnit…I hate insomnia…." I muttered into my pillow, then coughed at the aroma that filled my nose. Tobacco, ale and maybe a bit of sex. Urk. I'd slept in so many crappy place I could practically *taste* all that stuff. For a brief second I wondered if Gourry had ever noticed this when we were traveling together, then snickered to herself. Gourry had trouble remembering left from right there was no way he could recognize smells (the exception to that was the smell of good food. That was how he recalled Sylphiel after all). 

    _Sylphiel...I wonder how she and all the other guys are doing._

    I shook my head. No use mopping and being overwhelmed with loneliness by thinking of the friends I never thought I'd get to see again. I rolled over onto my back and closed my eyes, letting my mind wander. Every so often I'd find an idea that I found amusing. Then I'd pounce on it, tapping and exploring it until every angle of it had been looked at. 

    That's how bored I was. 

    Rest wasn't coming easy to me those days; it wasn't because I hadn't been busy (blowing things up and managing to keep my sanity around a horde of mazoku took more energy than most people thought). Instead, I was haunted by images. Visions of rotting orchids growing around the graves of sad eyed dolls. Scary stuff that usually meant you were either seeing the future or you were falling completely off your rocker. Usually the later. 

    I shuddered. 

**END CHAPTER ONE**


End file.
